


Sweet Abandon

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, IN SPACE!, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 18:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adrianne is an anti-social homesteader with no desire to leave her dying planet. Until one day Genevieve crash lands in her yard, and plants the idea of travel in her mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Abandon

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted as a gift for [stripysockette](http://stripysockette.livejournal.com/) as part of the [spnspringfling](http://spnspringfling.livejournal.com/) challenge. I've only just gotten around to editing it and reposting it to my accounts.

Something rumbled beneath the deck.

They weren’t flying anywhere in particular. Just drifting until Genevieve decided what to explore next. She was seated comfortably with a map of constellations and planets from this galaxy to the next laid out in front of her.

“What the hell was that?” She asked.

Another rumble.

The floor beneath the thick, rubber soles of her boots vibrated. She stood up. The hatch to the engine room was within view and she strode towards it, but before she could reach it the ship released a violent shudder. It flung her back a few steps. She caught herself on the main console, and let out a short yelp.

“Jared, what was that?” She demanded.

Her ship’s intelligence system replied hesitantly.

He sounded apologetic.

“I can run a diagnosis,” the tinny voice said. “But it might be a little late for that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We’ve entered emergency engine shutdown,” he explained. “There’s nothing I can do.”

“And you just thought to tell me this?”

She didn’t like to raise her voice. For being nothing but bits and bytes in a server, he could be shockingly sensitive. He didn’t reply—was probably sulking—and she drew a slow breath in.

“Jared,” she tried again. “What can we do?”

“I suggest you take a seat.”

The ship shuddered again, and instruments began to rattle. She pushed herself off of the console and fell back into her seat. Jared immediately released the safety harness. The straps snapped into place and secured her in the seat.

She closed her eyes, and braced herself for the worst.

 

* * *

 

Adrianne stepped outside.

From the porch she observed the spacecraft that had crashed in her yard.

It was a small, wedge-shaped Rebel ship with twin, wing-mounted canons. It was old. The yellow pain was chipped and dirty and the name _Abandon_ was partially worn off of its side. She could tell it had seen better days even prior to rumbling across her property.

From where she stood, a faint rustling could be heard.

It sent a shiver up her spine because she knew what that meant.

Whatever was inside was still alive.

She didn’t move from the porch. Hands planted on her hips, she waited.

And finally, with a tired creak, the hatch opened.

 

* * *

 

Genevieve stepped out of her ship.

She walked down the ramp and turned back to observe the damage.

It could be worse—a lot worse, actually—but it still sucked.

She raked a hand through her hair and heaved a heavy sigh.

If her coordinates were correct she had landed on Lynneil. It was a small planet on the outskirts of the Andromeda galaxy. In her lifetime of travel she had never visited it. There was no point. It was a dying planet, in a sense. Its resources had been depleted long ago and most of its inhabitants had abandoned it in favor of better prospects long ago.

The few who had stayed were stubborn, in her opinion.

And as she turned around, she found herself facing one of them.

Ten, twenty yards away lay a rundown house with peeling paint and cracked shingles. On the porch stood a woman with long, blonde hair.

“Hi,” called Genevieve. She used her sweetest voice and started towards the house.

“Got a gun inside,” came the woman’s reply.

Okay then.

The threat caused her to slow her steps only marginally. She lifted her hands up to demonstrate that she held no weapon and meant no harm.

“Easy,” she said. “Just wanted to apologize for the mess. I’m Genevieve, and this here’s Abandon. I come in peace.”

She reached the lower porch steps and the woman looked down at her. She appeared skeptical, and cast a long look back at Genevieve’s ship.

“Got a neighbor two miles up the road,” she said finally. “He could fix her up for you.”

“Thanks, but nobody lays a hand on my baby but me. Just gotta tinker with her some before she’s up and running again.”

The woman nodded and asked, “How long?”

“Gotta take a look at her first, but I’ll let you know.”

She considered it for a moment, not that there was much to consider, and said, “Fair enough.” Then, without another word, she turned and disappeared inside the house.

The door slammed behind her, and Genevieve was left alone in the yard.

 

* * *

 

Adrianne opened a bottle of wine.

Visitors were few and far between, and while she went into town a couple times a week the locals ‘round here were different. They were short and to the point, never much for conversation; nothing like Genevieve, with her friendly demeanor and sweet smile.

She poured herself a glass and drank most of it in a few long sips.

An hour had passed, and she supposed she could check on her guest.

She ventured back outside, but Genevieve was nowhere in sight.

The ship remained in place, and she walked a slow circle around it. The wine bottle was still clutched in her hand, and she held her partially filled glass in the other. She took a sip and turned to head back towards the house, but was startled when a tinny voice filled the air behind her.

“Evening,” it said. “Sorry about the graceless entry onto your property. I’m normally awesome with landings—I swear—it’s just difficult without a functioning engine.”

She spun on a heel, and looked around.

“Who said that?” She asked.

There was a clatter from inside the ship, and Genevieve’s head popped up from the hatch.

“Quit hitting on her, Jared. I saw her first,” she said.

“Jared?” Adrianne asked.

“My intelligence system. Guides the ship and is _supposed_ to let me know when something’s wrong.” She cast an admonishing look towards the ship as she said the last few words.

“Nobody’s perfect,” Jared muttered, and Genevieve rolled her eyes.

She’d pulled her long, dark hair into a messy ponytail and her cheeks were smeared with grime and grease. She climbed out of the hatch, hopped up onto her feet, and walked down the ramp.

Adrianne extended the bottle to her.

“I wanted to apologize for the whole threatening to shoot you thing,” she said. “I’m Adrianne, by the way.”

Genevieve smiled and nabbed the offered bottle.

“Not a problem, Adrianne. And it certainly wasn’t the worst threat I’ve received this week.”

Side by side, they walked back in the direction of the house.

“How’s the ship?” She asked with a nod back in its direction.

“Blocked duct cut the fuel supply off to the third-stage engine. Caused it to enter emergency shutdown.”

“That hard to fix?”

“Not very. Gotta give her some time to recharge. In the morning I’ll need an hour, maybe two, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Well, until then I’ve got plenty of rooms. I mean, if you need a place to sleep.

She half-expected Genevieve to turn her down. Wasn’t certain she’d have any interest in sleeping somewhere as simple as her home.

Instead, Genevieve smiled and said, “Thank you, I’d love a room.”

And she walked through the door that Adrianne held open for her.

 

* * *

 

The house was as rundown inside as it was out.

“Nice place,” she commented.

Adrianne smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“It’s been in my family for years,” she said. “Could use a little work but… well… I don’t got the money to fix it. Doubt I ever will, way things have been going.” Admitting this was clearly difficult for her.

They took a seat in the living area, and Genevieve rested her elbows on her knees.

“You’re talking to a girl with a busted, rusted ship,” she said. “This place is like a castle in comparison.”

The smile finally reached Adrianne’s eyes.

She laughed a little, and said, “Good point.”

Her laugh was nice, and her smile was beautiful. Genevieve quietly admired her.

Adrianne carried on by saying, “Speaking of your ship, what is it that you do? When you aren’t crashing into backyards, that is.”

“I’m a Traveler.”

“Ain’t Traveler just a fancy title for somebody who’s never found their home?” She asked.

“I’m an explorer,” she replied equably. “The universe is my home.”

“Guess I’ve never understood it—the desire to float from one place to the next. Seems a little sad.”

“You ever left this place?” She asked.

“Never had much desire,” Adrianne admitted, and Genevieve tilted her head to the left.

“Wouldn’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” she said. “And no offense but this don’t seem like the shiniest of alternatives. Living on a planet that’s all but been abandoned.”

It was a low blow, and she immediately regretted saying such a thing. But Adrianne’s approach to conversation was blunt and Genevieve supposed she could handle it.

Adrianne looked away.

“My family has called this planet home for over a century. It would seem wrong to leave,” she said.

Genevieve inched closer. She laid a hand on her knee.

“You’ve honestly never wanted to try?” She asked. “To see what else the universe has to offer?”

Adrianne looked at Genevieve’s hand, then up at her. Something flashed in her eyes—a mix of desire and _want_ —but was quickly subdued. Adrianne looked away again, and shook her head. She said nothing, however, and Genevieve wondered what she might say if she did speak.

“You could always come with,” she told her. “Even if just for a few days, or a week. I take companions on occasion. They never leave disappointed.”

For a brief moment, she could see it.

She imagined them travelling together. Guiding her through the stars and introducing her to the many wonders of their vast universe. They would stop at planets along the way, and probably share a bed time and again. It could be magical.

Before the dream could be fully realized however, Adrianne shot her down.

“I could never do that,” she said firmly.

“Why not?”

“What if I asked you to leave your ship? What if I told you that your ship was broke and there was no chance of fixin’ it? Would you just give up and walk away?”

“Of course not,” she answered honestly, though she was beginning to understand. Adrianne felt connected to this planet and to this house. And despite circumstances, it was a bond difficult to shake if not impossible.

“With all due respect Miss Genevieve, you don’t know me. And I don’t know you.”

 _But we could_ she wanted to say, but didn’t.

Suddenly, she felt a little silly for opening this topic.

She’d gotten carried away.

“I can sleep on my ship,” she said quietly, and began to rise from her seat.

“No,” Adrianne said. “I’m a woman of my word and there’s a room at the end of the hall. It’s yours for the night.”

“I appreciate it,” she replied.

Without another word, and without looking back, she made her way down the hall.

 

* * *

 

Sleep didn’t come easy that night for Adrianne.

She tossed and turned in bed and thought of Genevieve, who was only steps down the hall.

Genevieve, who had been so bold to suggest that she leave.

It was unfair, and just the thought made her mad.

How dare she. She didn’t know a thing about Adrianne, or what she’d be leaving behind.

Then again, what would she be leaving? A crumbling home and a farm that hadn’t generated money in years. A town full of folks twenty years her senior who mostly grumbled about those damn kids jetting off to destinations unknown. A planet that had been abandoned by her family and she’d been too obstinate to leave.

But what would become of her if she left?

Lynneil was her home, and it might not be much but at least she knew what each day would hold. Who knew what would happen out there in the depths of space.

The thought was terrifying.

And maybe a little exciting.

But mostly terrifying.

 

* * *

 

Genevieve rose with the sun the following morning.

Within an hour Abandon was fully functioning again, and Jared was chattering about destinations. Apparently he’d spent his evening without her studying the maps in his system.

“Zyndl might be nice,” he said. “Or Trent.”

“Haven’t been to the Circinus galaxy in a while,” she commented.

“Let me draw up a list of possible destinations,” he said, and while he was busy doing that she continued to prep for takeoff.

As she neared the end of her checklist, she heard footsteps pad up the ramp and pause in the doorway.

“It isn’t exactly fair,” she heard Adrianne say. “You come crashing in here with all your fancy Traveler talk, and then you leave without as much as a goodbye?”

Genevieve turned, and found her leaning against the main console.

“Thought you couldn’t imagine leaving your home,” she replied.

“I can’t,” Adrianne admitted. “But there ain’t no rules about taking a little vacation once in a while.”

“Vacations are good,” Genevieve commented. “Great, even.”

“I agree.”

She saw the bag in Adrianne’s hands. A worn backpack stuffed full. Genevieve walked over and looked her in the eyes.

“Jared and I were talking about the Circinus galaxy. It’s wild, and beautiful. What do you say?”

Adrianne held her gaze. She looked nervous, but excited.

“I saw let’s go,” she said.

And they did.


End file.
